Outsize
by Book.Wretched
Summary: Takes place after Last Sacrifice. Rose has been at Lehigh with Lissa for a few months. But adjusting to a new lifestyle is always tough, and she's put on some extra weight. In an AU where Rose is as insecure as I am, how will she handle the change? Will Romitri prevail amidst the veritable minefield of Rose's body issues?
1. Wednesday

**Rose is a fantastic character, don't get me wrong, but not very relatable to someone like me. I have never been happy with the way I look, and I know I'm not alone in this. My body image is still something that I struggle with on a daily basis. It's so difficult not to compare myself to every other girl I see, nor is it very difficult to find myself lacking every time. Like any other journey, it has ups and downs.  
**

 **Despite appearances, I wrote this fic to promote body positivity. Every day, we encounter so many things that tell us we aren't good enough, which is absolute bullshit. Consider this a reminder to love yourself the way you are because you are amazing.**

* * *

I stare at myself in the full length bathroom mirror in horror.

 _But this can't be right!_ I tell myself, pinching the additional layer of flabby flesh between my thumb and forefinger. _It must be the steam on the mirror from the shower or something!_

Of course, I know it isn't the steam.

Lissa and I have been at Lehigh for a couple of months now. She has to attend to her studies as well as her numerous royal duties, while I not only have to guard her, but also have to take the same subjects as her. So I can't just slack off and risk failing the course if I want to continue to guard her. Add the smidgen of a social life that we manage to eke out, and we're both practically busy around the clock.

My horror turns to misery as I take inventory of my entire excessive exterior. With a sinking feeling in my much larger gut, I remember the one or two gym sessions I may have skipped in order to study for a test or to put in an extra shift. Thinking back, I realise that I haven't set foot in the gym in over a month. Then there's the severe upswing in the intake of sugary junk food in my diet of late -added to my recent lack of sleep- and that might explain the current depressing state of my body.

My eyes rove once more over the pockets of fat that seem to have collected overnight, and at last, my misery takes the expected turn up Self-Loathing Lane, pulls up the handbrake, and turns off the engine.

Suddenly, I can't bear to look any longer. Tears gather in my eyes as I wrap myself in a towel, but there isn't enough fabric to disguise my double chin or my cankles. And how on earth did I get so _pale_? Isn't my father from the Middle-East, for fuck's sake?

The truth is, I've always looked good.

Between my hardcore guardian training and my high-functioning dhamphir metabolism, ever since puberty I've basically just been five feet of curves and muscle. And with my awesome hair, flawless skin and big eyes, I've never really had to worry about my looks. Even when I doubted myself, there was still the sizable queue of guys around every corner, throwing me compliments that cleared it right up.

It's not that I'm vain exactly, I just like looking good. I mean, who doesn't? It makes me feel confident, and that overflows into every aspect of my character. I've never really been insecure about my appearance before. But now that I'm seeing myself in the mirror, I have to face the facts: I've gained the Freshman Fifteen.

I exit the bathroom, locked into orbit on my downward spiral of despair, and try to find the energy to get dressed. I'm sitting on my bed, glaring at my chubby toes (seriously, how can I even have put on weight _there_?!) when Lissa walks in.

"Hey, you're up."

"Uh, yeah." I self-consciously pull my towel tighter, painfully aware of the rolls that droop out around my underarms. Of course, she looks perfect; like a freaking supermodel.

Internally, I roll my eyes. _Stupid half-human genes_.

"What's up, Liss?"

She grins and dances over to sit beside me on the mattress. "I've got exciting news!"

I'm immediately suspicious. "What is it?"

She laughs at my expression. "Relax, Rose. You're gonna love it. We've been working so hard, we both deserve a treat."

My face softens. "You've been working hard," I say. "I've just been doing my job."

"Please, you've been doing far more than your job." She rolls her eyes. "Anyway, you know that social this weekend?"

"The one we can't go to because of the test on Monday?"

"The very same," she beams. "Well, inexplicably, Professor Strydom changed his mind about that."

I narrow my eyes. "Just like that?"

She shrugs. "He said we all deserved a break."

"And this wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a student in possession of unprecedented powers of persuasion?"

Her grin widens. "It might. Anyway, now that we have the weekend free, I'm thinking we can make a day of it. You know, go get mani-pedis or something. Oh, and of course, we'll have to go dress shopping."

My heart takes a swan dive into my stomach. Dress shopping… like this…

"It sounds like fun, Liss, really."

"But?"

I almost smile: she knows me too well.

"But, it's a big security risk," I hedge. "We can't provide enough protection for you in that environment."

"That's your only concern?"

I can't think of anything else besides my recently-developed raging insecurity, which I sure as hell am not going to chat to her about. "Well, yeah. Otherwise I'd love to go."

She pauses to think about it. "Okay, but what if I told you that I spoke to Hans and he's willing to send in one of his top guardians?"

I frown. "You spoke to Hans?"

"Yup. It's all settled."

She looks ridiculously pleased with herself. My hands are tied, and she knows it. But rather than upset her by showing my reluctance, I pull on a smile.

"All right then. I guess we're going to the dance this weekend."

"Yay!" she squeals, clapping her hands. "I'll leave you to get dressed then, we'll talk when you're done. Don't forget your assignment for Lovell's period!"

I get up when she leaves and head over to my dresser without much hope. I pull on a baggy sweatshirt that hides my bra bulge as well as my stake, and a pair of jeans which take forever to shimmy into, owing to the fact that my thighs now smoosh together like bread dough when my feet touch.

In a rare fit of effort, I cover my pimpled skin with a layer of powder. It's just another perk of my terribly greasy diet of late. Obviously there isn't much of a point- I have nobody to look good for since Dimitri is a hundred miles away- but I can't stand the thought of avoiding every reflective surface for the rest of the day, all to forget that I look like crap.

With a sigh, I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder as I leave. The jingling of my keys is jarringly juxtaposed to my mood, so I cram them into my pocket with more force than necessary. The denim is so tight on my legs that the outline of my keys is clearly visible as I knock on Lissa's bedroom door.

"Coming!"

She emerges from her room with her slim form sheathed in high-waist leggings and a gorgeous crop-top. A cardigan hangs over her arm next to her bag as she locks her door.

We walk from our dorm across the quad, to the cafeteria. Lissa talks about her excitement for the dance, even though it's still three days away. I don't really pay much attention, but she finally quiets as we approach the counter and she's distracted by the breakfast selection.

"You look nice today," I say, hiding my ridiculous pang of jealousy, "What's the occasion?"

"Oh, nothing," she replies, picking up a tray and selecting her food.

I do the same, instinctively reaching towards the chocolate donuts before I catch sight of where my wrist bone used to be visible. Unsuccessfully attempting to quell a fresh wave of self-revulsion, I pick an apple instead.

Lissa frowns at my choice of food. "That's all you're eating?"

I shrug, forcing the smile back onto my lips to hide my grimace. "I'm not really all that hungry."

My stomach disagrees quite vociferously, but she doesn't seem to notice.

"So we have a light workload tomorrow. Maybe we can go dress shopping after classes?"

I force myself to take a small bite of my apple instead of devouring it whole. I use the time it takes to chew in order to work that fake smile back onto my face.

"Sounds good," I grin. "But why the rush? It's only Wednesday."

"Oh, you know. Got to get a dress before all the good ones are gone."

Something about the way her eyes slide over mine as she speaks makes me think that she's hiding something. "Is something happening that you aren't telling me?"

Her face falls slightly. "Dammit Rose, you know me too well. But it's a surprise, okay?"

I look at her pout, aware that she's laying it on thick just to guilt me.

"Fine," I sigh.

We finish eating and attend our lectures for the day, Lissa ironing out all the details of the fated shopping trip while every time I catch sight of our reflection, my fragile self-esteem takes a beating. That night I get a call from Dimitri.

"Roza, hi." That sweet Russian accent floats into my ear, sounding like home. I can tell that he's smiling on the other end of the line and it makes me smile too.

"Hey Comrade," I return. "How are you?"

Quiet laughter fills the silence. "Missing you, but otherwise I'm fine. What about you?"

"I miss you too," I whisper, purposely avoiding the real question. I'm immensely glad that he can't see me; not just because of my doubled size, but because if he were here in person I wouldn't have gotten away with the omission. As it stands, it thankfully goes unnoticed.

"How's your workload?" I add, before he can think too much about my reply.

"Big. But not big enough to keep me entirely distracted. I think I'm driving Christian crazy."

I laugh with him. "I don't think you're entirely to blame on that front."

"A very good point. How's Lissa?"

"Working her ass off," I reply. _Something I need to start doing, ASAP,_ I add silently to myself. "But there's this social dance thing happening this weekend that she's dragging me to."

"That's good. It'll be fun for both of you, since you've been working so hard." He sighs. "I wish we could take a break on this side."

"Training keeping your hands full?"

"You could say that," he replies, a smile in his voice. "We're going to be busy here for at least another three months."

It's my turn to sigh. "That long? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

"I know, Roza. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. It just sucks."

"It does. I miss you."

"Me too."

I hear voices in the background of the call, and I know what's coming a moment before Dimitri's voice comes back on the line. "Sorry, Roza, I have to go."

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you too. More than life itself."

The call goes dead with his last words still ringing in my ear. They put a huge smile on my face, and my heart swells just from hearing his voice. That is, until I catch sight of myself in the mirror once more.

"Ugh," I groan, grabbing a pillow and clamping it over my head, sealing myself in darkness. If I'm lucky, maybe I'll fall asleep like this and suffocate.

But I heave myself up after a moment and turn out the lights. Then I retreat into the sanctuary of unconsciousness, where I'm still thin and I get to see Dimitri.

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I kind of poured my heart and soul into this fic, so please leave a review to let me know what you thought! Also, feel free to favourite and follow as you see fit.**

 **Every single thing that Rose thinks is something that I have thought about myself before, in some shape or form. This is not to gain sympathy, but rather to show that I am not in the position to judge anyone. No matter where you are on the scale of self-confidence, your situation, while not dissimilar to many other people, is unique to you. I know we're all just doing the best that we can.**

 **Also, apologies if I sound ridiculously cheesy.**

 **Thank you to my fantastic Beta hes-beauty-hes-jason-grace. Tag yourself, we're the sibling goals. If you enjoy Solangelo and really good writing, you should take a look at her work.**

 **All credit for the characters and universe herein goes to Richelle Mead.**


	2. Thursday

Unfortunately, my appearance isn't much improved in the morning light.

My skin is a little clearer on account of a rigorous scrub last night, but sadly I haven't deflated in the slightest, despite the fact that my stomach moaned at me all day for the sole sacrificial apple that it received as nourishment.

I tug on a baggy grey t-shirt and carefully close my closet door, thus hiding the mirror safely in its dark confines. Then I spend an hour hiding the state of my skin and curling my hair so that it cascades softly around my face, obscuring my deplorably soft jawline in the process. The end result is marginally acceptable, until Lissa strolls through my door looking effortlessly gorgeous in a striped maxi dress that shows off her collar bones.

We attend lectures while I attempt to survive on a small tub of low-fat yoghurt. Though on the up side, Lissa is too excited about shopping later to take note of my sparse diet. She chatters on and on about the dance, but I don't really pay much attention. It's kind of hard to focus on anything above the growling of my stomach.

"…And it'll be so great to be able to dance with partners as well! I'm so excited to-"

"Wait a second," I frown, tuning back in to the conversation. "Did you say partners?"

That brings her up short.

"Um, yeah. I thought it would be nice." She's clearly uncomfortable, she obviously hadn't meant to let that slip.

I don't want to deprive her of her happiness, but a problem immediately springs to mind; "We both have boyfriends."

She rolls her eyes. "Well, duh. I got us dates, just for the night. Is that okay?"

I think briefly about the jealous tendencies of both of our partners. Mind you, I doubt Dimitri would mind much if I dance with another guy in my current elephantine state. I know I won't enjoy it much without him, but at least he doesn't have to bear witness to all of the extra me.

"Okay, I guess. You're sure Christian will be fine with it?"

"It's just a dance, Rose. It's for fun, remember?"

I swallow my insecurities, probably gaining a couple of pounds in the process, and smile reassuringly.

"Sounds good," I lie.

It's just after lunchtime when we leave the lecture hall and head for the parking lot. We meet Dominic by the car. He's Lissa's other guardian, currently posing as our uncle involved in the university's administration department. He's nice enough, but very silent and professional.

Lissa and I spend the drive trying to guess Dominic's favourite music, roaring with laughter when his lips twitch infinitesimally at my suggestion that he's partial to Ke$ha. My mood is actually pretty good when we pull into a parking bay along a street lined with boutiques.

We stroll leisurely along the strip, peering into shop windows until we eventually find one that looks promising. Dominic adopts the doting uncle façade as we walk into the store. He places himself strategically in a chair near the entrance to act as far guard, while I tail Lissa, who heads straight over to one rack of glitzy full-length dresses.

I browse half-heartedly, always keeping a careful watch on her as she 'oohs' and 'ahs' over the designs, piling her arms with numerous dresses in champagne, pink, cream, mint… her eyes sparkle brighter than the jewels on the gowns.

"I'm going to go try these on," she says to me a few minutes later. "Have you found anything yet?"

I force myself to smile, trying and failing not to think of how fat I would look in the dresses she's picked. "Not yet," I reply.

"Hmmm," she muses, looking around. She's comically intent on her task, like a military commander or something. "How about this one?"

Her fingers pull out a long, strapless pearl-grey dress in shimmering fabric. It's tight fitting down to the knee where it flares out, mermaid style. I can imagine all too easily where all the bulges would be visible, and supress a shudder.

"Um, I'm not really feeling that one. You go change, I'll carry on looking while you're busy."

"Okay. If you find something you like, just let me know."

With an answering smile, she heads off in the direction of the changerooms, while I move my search to the racks nearby. Most of my attention remains on the cubicle that Lissa disappears into, though my hands automatically sort through the dresses in front of me.

"Can I help you?"

An enthusiastic shop assistant hovers at my elbow, eying the dresses I'm busy rifling through. She's human; roughly my height with blonde highlights and impeccable crimson lipstick. Her figure is soul-crushingly perfect, so based on that and my current body war, I take an immediate dislike to her.

I've unintentionally gravitated towards the darker colours, and I look down to see an elegant gown in deep plum, with a high lace neck and sleeves. A sparkly silver belt adorns the waistline. I feel a tug of longing at the sight.

"Oh, I was just looking, thanks," I reply, my gaze lingering on the lace dress.

She expertly interprets my look. "It's beautiful, isn't it? Elegant, but modest. And the colour would match your skin tone perfectly."

I hesitate, checking for signs of movement from Lissa's cubicle. "It is really pretty," I say.

She grins, exposing blindingly white teeth that remind me uncomfortably of a shark. "Excellent. I'll just find you a bigger size."

My face pales, then turns red as she sorts through the hangers, but she pretends not to notice. She extracts the dress and drapes it over my arms. I want to punch her in her perfect face. But before I have the opportunity to disentangle my arm enough to draw it back, Lissa emerges from the changeroom.

"Oh good, you found something!" She walks over to me, allowing Miss-Find-You-A-Bigger-Size to escape, probably to reapply her horrendous lipstick.

She catches sight of the dress in my arms. "Oh."

I immediately pick up on her tone. "Something wrong?"

"No, not at all," she frowns. "It's just…different to what you'd normally wear."

 _That's because I have more to cover up than usual_ , I think grimly.

"I thought it was pretty," I say out loud.

She smiles. "It really is. The colour is exquisite. Do you want to try it on?"

I think about the shame of catching sight of myself in another mirror. "I can't leave you, Liss. I'll just make do with what I have at home."

"Okay Rose," she scoffs, rolling her eyes as she takes the hanger from my hands and goes to the counter. She pays, then hands me one of the bags.

"Let's go get shoes."

Dominic obligingly escorts us to a shoe store, then a jewellery store, and finally to a salon to replenish our makeup supply. After that, Lissa insists that we all get something to eat at a quaint little corner café.

Dominic solemnly sips his coffee, but Lissa orders two huge slices of caramel cheesecake and a strawberry smoothie for herself and me. When it arrives, the smell makes my stomach transform into a black hole. Despite my best efforts, I shovel forkful after forkful of sticky, sinful calories into my mouth until my plate is empty.

The guilt sets in on the drive home, while Lissa is occupied trying to search for a radio station playing something by Ke$ha. I can feel my cheesecake solidifying in my stomach, making me sick. I close my eyes, trying in vain to quell my fit of revulsion at my lack of self-control.

 _Timber_ begins to pound through the speakers shortly before we arrive back at the university, accompanied by Lissa's crow of delight and peal of laughter when it turns out that Dominic knows all the words. He even belts out the chorus for her entertainment. I join in the laughter, but my heart isn't in it.

Pleading fatigue, I head up to my room and hang my dress in the closet. Then I crouch in front of the porcelain bowl of the toilet for a half hour, viciously prodding my cellulite and willing myself to be sick. It turns out that I don't have the guts, no pun intended, so I brush my teeth and call it an early night.

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, or didn't and wish to offer some constructive criticism, please leave a review to let me know! And favourite and follow too, as you see fit.  
**

 **This fic doesn't appear to be very popular, but it's something that I have to write-if only to know that I'm not alone in this. I find it comforting to think that my favourite characters could go through the same thing that I am, and I hope that you do too. Here's a friendly reminder that you are perfect just the way you are!  
**

 **Thank you to my sister and Beta, hes-beauty-hes-jason-grace. I assure you that it's not bias when I say that she writes really well, and you should head on over to her profile if you have a spare moment. _*cough coughnepotism cough*_**

 **Credit for the VA universe and the characters herein goes to Richelle Mead.**


	3. Friday

I wake up extra early the next morning and make sure that Dominic's there to guard Lissa, before making my way to the gym. Even with so many other things on my mind, the guardian motto is drilled into my head. They come first. I'm hyper aware of my muffin top as I pull on some yoga pants, and this becomes my motivation as I warm up. So help me, I will run this all off today.

Unbelievably, I'm out of breath before I've made it halfway around the track. I think back on all the times I've put off gym to do or eat something.

 _This is your own fault!_ I yell in my head, suddenly livid that I could have let myself get this bad.

My anger burns in my muscles, spurring me on until my body is screaming for me to stop. But I push through until my legs are numb from the rhythmic thud of my feet, knowing full well that my face is red and blotchy and I'm puffing like the little engine that definitely could not.

Finally I have to stop. My vision is turning black at the edges and my mouth tastes like metal as I flop uselessly to the ground. It takes several minutes for my breathing to return to some semblance of normality and I am utterly disgusted at myself. Two months ago, I could have run twice this much with half the effort.

With these grim thoughts beating around the inside of my head, I go to the change rooms to shower and fetch my things, but several perfect jock girls are already there. With these grim thoughts flying around inside my head, the pitiful comparison is the last thing I need. Instead of battering my fragile self-esteem against their rock hard abs, I grab my stuff and return to my room to shower.

Foolishly, half of me expects it to have made some small difference, somehow. I poke the extra padding on my frame and watch as the ghost of my finger blushes briefly red before fading back to white. I sigh and turn around to leave, but as I do, a strange dizziness almost overcomes me and the tiles swim before my eyes. I clutch at the wall until my vision returns, and then proceed to my room to get dressed, trying not to think of how my pudgy flesh rubs against itself when I move.

My muscles begin to register their complaints as I bend over to tie my shoes. While it slows me down slightly, the familiar ache is almost comforting. The pain feels good, and serves to remind me of how far I've slipped. It makes it much easier to gloss over the croissants and sugary cereals on display in the cafeteria and opt instead for a piece of dry toast.

"Rose, did you even hear what I said?"

"Hmm?"

Lissa and I are sitting at a table in the early morning noise of the dining area. Her mouth is drawn into a frown as she surveys me.

"Is everything okay?" she asks, her brow furrowed. I find it more difficult than usual to concentrate on what she's saying.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Her frown deepens. "You don't seem okay. You're acting a little strange."

"Am I?"

"Definitely. You've hardly said a word. Is something bothering you?"

I take another bite of my toast, chewing as I think of what to say. The crumbs catch slightly in my throat, until I chase it down with a sip of water.

"I guess I'm just tired," I say once I've swallowed. "I haven't been sleeping well lately."

She doesn't look convinced, but she doesn't say anything else. I see her eying the toast in my hand suspiciously and I make a mental note to get some more food at lunch time to allay her doubts.

As the day goes by, I find it more and more difficult to pay attention. It's as if I'm drifting above everyone, peering through a window as they speak on the other side. I try to act like my normal self around Lissa, but it's difficult to find the energy. Mostly I just go about my morning like a dispassionate zombie, shuffling around from one lecture to the next, basically just following Lissa.

"Hello? Earth to Rose!"

"What?"

My eyes focus on her concerned green gaze as she stands in the line in front of me.

"I _said_ what do you want for lunch?"

"Oh, er," I glance down at the contents of her tray, sitting next to mine, and decide that it's less effort to just get what she has. "I'll have a salad, thanks."

She nods her approval as she pays for our food, while I go to sit at our table. She joins me a minute later and watches until I take the first forkful of lettuce before she starts on her own.

It's slightly wilted, and swimming in thin dressing, but as far as I'm concerned, this salad is the elixir of life. It doesn't taste half bad, and I feel a grin spread across my face as I spear a weepy hunk of tomato on the end of my fork.

"You don't have to worry about me, you know."

She looks up from her drink, looking wary until she sees my grin, and then smiles in return.

"Yes I do. You've been a cause for worry, recently."

I roll my eyes. "I swear, Liss, I'm just tired."

She raises her eyebrows. "I wasn't born yesterday. You haven't been eating properly. It's not like you."

"I ate before I went for a run this morning, so I wasn't hungry. And…"

"Yes?"

I decide to feed her half the truth. "I miss Dimitri."

Her expression softens, and I breathe a sigh of relief. "I get it, believe me. I miss Christian like crazy. I just wish you would talk to me about it."

"It's nothing I can't handle. It's just hard sometimes."

She smiles sadly. "I know."

We finish eating in silence; each of us too wrapped in our own thoughts to be capable of any conversation. As we get up to walk to our last class of the day, Lissa turns to me.

"I'm going to do my nails tonight for the dance," she says. "You should come over, we'll have a girl's night. It'll be fun."

"That does sound like fun," I agree. "I'll be there."

We normally end up spending Friday evenings together in any case, because that's Dominic's longest shift. It gives us time to just hang out as friends, rather than guardian and charge. It's a good reward after a long week-to get the chance to just relax for a while, with my best friend. For just a few short hours, I am not her guardian and she isn't the queen.

When I get back to my room, I take a shower and then throw on the first items of clothing that my fingers touch. There's no point in bothering much when it's just a night in with Lissa, and I know I'll look like shit no matter what. I only hope that there are no sugary snacks I'll have to try to avoid; my stomach seemed to have admitted defeat and lapsed into silence until the salad, when the grumbling came back with a vengeance. Probably because it was reminded of the existence of actual food.

At the appropriate hour, I walk up to Lissa's door and raise my hand to knock. My knuckles stop about an inch from the wood when I hear the sound of voices coming from inside, and none of them are hers. I'm not even aware of forming the thought, but my stake is already clutched tightly in my hand. Ever so slowly, I turn the handle. As expected, it's unlocked.

I take a deep breath. My tired muscles coil in anticipation. 3… 2… 1…

I burst through the door. The first thing I look for is Lissa, who I see almost immediately sitting on the couch. Her eyes are wide, I seem to have startled her, but otherwise she seems unharmed. I quickly assess her, performing a mental inventory. No gaping wounds, blood or obvious signs of distress. Only when I'm convinced that she's okay do I shift my attention to the person sitting next to her, appraising me with a smirk in his familiarly piercing blue eyes that bring me up short.

 _He can't be here,_ I think to myself. _It's impossible! But if he is, then that would mean…_

Finally I am entirely sure that there's no danger, and I allow myself to slowly look over at the last person in the room. He stands next to the bed by the window, blocking out half the light of the setting sun. My heart leaps in my chest, and my aching muscles react before I do. Before I know it, I've launched myself at him from across the room.

He staggers slightly on impact, but embraces me fiercely as I wrap myself around him.

"Roza," Dimitri breathes into my hair.

My heart catches at the familiar nickname. It feels so good, after so long, to finally be back in his arms. When I breathe in, the comforting scent of leather and cologne greets me like and old friend. We stay that way for a full two minutes, neither one of us daring to relinquish the sweetness of our reunion. For two minutes, I forget. But slowly, the whisperings in my brain begin to make themselves heard.

I gradually become aware of the fact that he's clearly been working out while we were apart. His muscles are a little bigger and his body is somehow- possibly through the use of witchcraft- a tad leaner, but it's enough to make the discrepancy hit home. My stomach moulds formlessly against the muscle of his solid torso, his hands that squeeze me so tightly to him displace the fat on my back. Even the tendons in his neck seem ridiculously contrasted to my fleshy face and chin. Suddenly ashamed, I step back, breaking the hug.

Since he's Dimitri, he notices my reaction. His brow crinkles slightly and he opens his mouth, but I'm quick enough to pre-empt him.

"So you lured me here under false pretences?" I jokingly accuse Lissa, turning to face her rather than continuing to allow Dimitri the opportunity to read my expression.

She's so absorbed with Christian that she doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary, or how ridiculously strained my fake smile must look. In fact, she doesn't even take her eyes off of him as she laughingly replies, "Oh, definitely. My motives were clearly suspect."

She pauses, smiling, and finally looks at me. Thankfully, I've had long enough to rearrange my features more convincingly by the time she continues. "I just can't believe you didn't suspect anything. Was I really that convincing?"

"You could definitely consider acting as a backup career," I smile.

Christian grins and twists around, draping one arm casually over the back of the couch. "Rose, when you stormed in here, I thought you were going to start throwing punches."

It's easier to find my stride with Christian and our snarky banter, which makes it much easier to grin back at him. "Well, I guess you're lucky that it didn't come to that."

"You might be surprised at what he's learned to do," Dimitri chimes in, walking forward to join the conversation. "Though he has a long way before he'd be able to take you on."

Christian laughs. "Well, you know what they say about playing with fire."

Lissa rolls her eyes. "I don't think Rose would even let fire get in her way if she thought my life was in danger."

I feel Dimitri's arm snake around my waist and try not to wince when I feel it sink in a couple of inches. Swallowing my discomfort, I lean into him slightly.

"I think I'd have to agree with the Queen on this one," he smiles.

Christian shrugs and turns around, accepting defeat. There's a moment of silent camaraderie.

"So," I say eventually, intercepting a heated glance between Lissa and Christian, "I'm guessing we aren't actually going to do our nails tonight?"

She looks up at me, a little guiltily. "We still can, if you want to. I just thought you might want to… do something else."

Dimitri shifts a little uncomfortably at her suggestion, delicate though her tone was. I laugh. "No, don't worry about it, Liss. I'll do them back in my room."

We make our exit after that, him following slightly behind me. It takes no small amount of effort to keep my gait casual, what with the knot of nerves that are tightening in my stomach with every step I take.

Somewhere, in the recesses of my brain, there's a voice that's telling me that I'm being ridiculous. I wasn't even this nervous that first time in the cabin, so why on earth am I making such a big deal out of this? But a much louder voice screams in the forefront of my mind, _maybe it's because you're approximately the size of an adolescent hippopotamus!_

And that's just it. We haven't seen each other in months, so I should be excited to see him. Or rather, I am excited to see him, I'm just not very happy that he has to see me too. The truth is, I can't stand to look at myself. So how on earth can I expect him, with his godly good looks, to enjoy the experience?

I try not to let my anxiety show though. Dimitri can read me so well, and the last thing I want to do is draw his attention to all of _this_. It's for this reason that I keep half a step ahead, leading him to my room, so that he can't see my face as I try to quell the dread that grows every time I think about what's coming. The journey isn't nearly long enough.

My stomach is an empty tangle of emotion, the salad is a distant memory. I close the door behind us, panic rising steadily.

"So this is it," I say, my voice sounding thin and strange. "It's not much, but I suppose it's home. The bathroom is through there. Uh, you can just put your stuff anywhere. You know. Make yourself comfortable and all that."

I'm rambling, but it's as if I've been locked outside my head, unable to reach the brakes.

 _He can't see me like this!_ I think desperately. _Just don't think about it._

All this time, Dimitri's eyebrow is arching higher and higher, but he softens it with a smile.

"Uh, Rose? We have met before, remember?"

 _Breathe. Just breathe._

I laugh weakly. "Yeah, sorry. I, er, it's been a while. Got to like, recalibrate or something."

His smile fades, and now he looks a little confused. "Okay, sure."

 _I want to be someone else! He cannot see me like this!_

I cast around for something to talk about, anything to distract me from my racing heartbeat, but there's nothing and I can feel my palms sweating and I can see him start to get worried but I can't remember how to act normally. All I can think about is disappointing him.

"You look a little pale. Are you okay?"

"I think so. Maybe."

 _No! I'm about to break into a million pieces and there's nothing I can do! I can't let him see! I CAN'T DO THIS!_

"Rose?"

I catch sight of myself in the mirror, white as a ghost with my eyes taking up half my face, and I can hear a rushing sound that takes me a moment to identify as my own breath hitching in my throat. And all around it, all around me, the fat all over my body, like some sick mirror in a funhouse. Twisting me, making me grotesque, except it's real life and I can't just walk away. I close my eyes rather than look at it for another second. Instinct makes my arms wrap around me, nails digging in, trying desperately to hold myself together. The pain helps to ground me, but not enough, not nearly enough, and all of a sudden I'm dissolving.

I am nothing but feeling and there's so much of it, just like there's so much of me. The loathing, the hatred, and buried underneath layer upon layer is the burning desire to be myself again, but I can't remember who that is. Terrified, I discover that these thoughts have eaten away at everything that I was like acid. I'm just as empty as my stomach. There's nothing left of me. I have nothing that I can give him.

Somewhere, there's a voice that enters my head somehow, telling me what to do. A voice that is safe to obey. It echoes from my memories and reaches out with familiar hands to soothe me, guiding me onto the floor with my head between my knees. I couldn't say how long it is before I can feel myself start to return, shaken and afraid.

Dimitri just sits with me, one arm wrapped protectively around my shoulders, face grim. Waiting.

"What was that?" I whisper finally. I'm unsurprised to find that my cheeks are wet.

He doesn't move. "A panic attack. You've never had one before?"

Wordlessly, I shake my head.

A minute goes by before I speak again. "Why?"

A beat, then: "You tell me."

It's soft; gentle. I understand that it's not a command, but rather an invitation.

Slowly, my scattered thoughts begin to reconvene. Of course I know why, but though he deserves an explanation, I can't bring myself to voice the truth.

"It was just… too much, I guess." I bury my face in the darkness of my folded arms, where it's easier to lie. "I haven't been sleeping well. Lately the stress has been getting to me. I'm just a bit…fragile."

"Would you like me to leave?" His voice is low, presumably to hide the hurt behind it.

I shake my head and he presses a kiss into my hair.

"Okay, let's get you to bed then."

A tendril of panic sneaks up my spine, making my body tense. It's a small reaction, but of course Dimitri notices.

"Woah, hey. I didn't mean it like that."

My voice is small. "Okay."

But damn it all, he knows me better than I know myself, and astonishment lights his features.

"That's it, isn't it?"

I stare at the ground, ashamed. Slowly, he retracts his arm, giving us both some space.

"You have to know that I would never force you to do anything." He sounds shocked, and a little offended.

Honestly, I can hardly blame him. What is _wrong_ with me?!

"I know," I assure him. "I know you. It's not anything you did, it's…me."

There's a tense pause.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to let you down."

Wearily, he wipes his face with one hand. "Maybe next time you should try talking to me first. It's a little easier to do than panic."

He gets up, face blank, and cautiously offers me his hand. As soon as I'm standing too, he lets go.

"I need to unpack a couple of things, so I'll just let you get changed."

He turns away and unzips his bag, shoulders slightly hunched. It makes me even more furious at myself.

I take a deep breath, shoving my insecurities down as far as they'll go, summoning every ounce of courage that I still possess.

My willpower wavers somewhat with the each of the two steps necessary to bring me to his side, but I steel myself and stretch onto my toes anyway, reaching an arm around his neck to pull him a few inches closer. The kiss is a little hesitant, a little unsure, but something falls into place by the time I pull away.

"I really am glad to see you, Comrade," I say, watching him smile just a little at the nickname. "I guess I just have a funny way of showing it."

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I would really appreciate it if you would take a moment to let me know what you think. I know that this fic is very different to a lot of the others, so I'm not exactly sure if I'm doing it right or not, so every bit of input is welcomed, whether positive or negative. I'd also like to thank you for all the support that I've received so far. It's especially meaningful with this issue being so close to home.**

 **Once again, I'd just like to remind you that you are amazing. You are unique, and exactly the way that you were meant to be! Even though I don't know you, ,I can say that with absolute certainty.**

 **Shoutout to** **hes-beauty-hes-jason-grace, my Beta sibling! She writes incredibly well, so please take a look at her stuff if you have a spare moment. Wow! Such Solangelo, so sass, many grammar!  
**

 **The characters and VA universe are the intellectual property of Richelle Mead.**


	4. Saturday Night

***I have skipped Saturday Morning, which I can't seem to write at the moment, but will post when I've finished it. So instead of waiting, because it could be a while, I decided to post the last chapter, which I've been sitting on, and I'll close the gap when I have the chapter***

I'm in limbo, floating in a sea of mindless, swirling colours. Nonsensical sounds fade in and out of existence, but they don't really matter all that much. It's so soft, drifting in this nothingness.

But slowly, the downy emptiness solidifies into the surface of a mattress, and the whirling colours resolve; first into the faraway blackness of unconsciousness, and then finally into that heavy, present black of the inside of my eyelids. As soon as I become aware of this, I open my eyes.

Everything seems a little soft around the edges, though the room is in a state of semi-darkness. The light from the bathroom spills out onto the floor in a fuzzy rectangle, partially illuminating a figure sitting on the chair in one corner of the room.

I struggle up onto my elbows for a better look, surprised at the shaking weakness in my limbs. I feel strangely heavy, and the irony of this is not lost on me. Dimitri sits with his elbows braced on his knees, watching me. He notices my movement, but does not move himself.

"Are you feeling better?"

I nod. "Is Lissa okay?"

"Yes. I got to her in time."

Thank goodness.

I sink back against the pillows, a little dizzy, but it seems he's waiting for me to say something. So I attempt a smile, and lie through my teeth.

"I don't know what happened. It must have been the heat or something."

At my words, his face darkens. "Please don't insult me. Lissa says you haven't been eating."

My smile dries up. His face is blank, almost stony, but his heart is in his eyes. I can see everything. My vision blurs as the tears well up, and I look at the ceiling, trying desperately to call them back. It's no use. I press my lips together and admit defeat. Water rolls down my face as I look back at him, simply accepting the blame. He leans forward.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Anger, hurt and concern all vie for prominence in his voice, but underneath it all is the thing that makes my heart contract; love.

I cover my face with my hands and start to cry in earnest, letting everything out that I could never adequately express. The constant worry, the self-loathing, the unhappiness. All of my insecurities and doubts flow out of me for him to witness. I cry ugly, snotty sobs, and then I feel his weight on the bed next to me. His hands stroke my shoulders.

"Rose, _why_?" he asks. His voice is so soft and gentle that it cuts through the mess in my head and pierces me to the core. He really has to ask?

I pull away. I know that this is it; after I say what I'm about to say, he'll see me for what I really am.

I rip my hands away from my face to grab at the rolls under my forearms and the fat beneath my chin. I know how deranged I must appear, but I can't hold it back any more.

"Look at me!" My voice is thick and foreign; a stranger's voice for a stranger's body. "I'm enormous!"

There's silence as I squeeze my eyes shut tight, not able to watch the realisation light his features with the same disgust I feel. He keeps to his spot on the bed and makes no move to touch me, for which I am grateful.

"I'm… so sorry," he murmurs, after what seems like half an age. It's not the response I expected, and I open my eyes and look up at him despite myself. When I meet his gaze, he reaches out a tentative hand to stroke my hair.

"Rose, I am so sorry that I wasn't here while you were going through this." His eyes shine with an intensity that could never be doubted. "I'm sorry that I wasn't here every day, to tell you how beautiful you are."

"But, how could I still be beautiful when I look like this?"

His jaw clenches. "Stop. Just stop it. Come here."

And I'm so tired of it all that I do as he says. I collapse against his chest, sobbing, and he wraps his arms around me, pressing kisses into my hair and whispering in Russian. He strokes my back and my arms and my head and my face until finally, finally I am still. Then, ever so gently, he stands up and pulls me with him.

"What…" I begin, but he shushes me and continues to move me towards the closet. He pulls open the door, and there we stand, reflected in the dim light in the mirror. I'm still in my dress but my feet are bare, he's shed his jacket and tie, and the top button of his shirt is undone. He stands behind me, resting his hands on my waist, bending over so that his head is almost next to mine.

"Do you know what I see?" he breathes into my ear.

His eyes hold mine in the reflection. Unable to speak, I simply shake my head.

"I see you, Rose."

His hand reaches up to trace the lines of my face and the reflection follows. He brushes his fingers over my lips.

"Loud, and brave and beautiful."

The contours of my head fit perfectly into the shape of his hand. His face is open and earnest; his eyes never leave my own. I suppose it's so I can't doubt the truth of his words, or rather that he believes what he's saying wholeheartedly.

His touch continues from my face, down my neck and shoulder to lightly skim up and down my arm.

"I see someone who is strong beyond belief."

In the mirror, his lips quirk into a small but genuine smile. "Who can be mildly terrifying at times."

There's an infinitesimal response from my own lips.

"For whatever reason, you can't see these things right now," he continues. "But that doesn't mean they aren't true."

Gently, he turns me around so that I'm facing him. His fingers curl beneath my chin, lifting my face to look directly into his eyes. His face is now serious.

"But it also means that you have to stop. You do not have my permission to hate the woman I love, and under no circumstances are you allowed to put her life at risk unnecessarily. Our jobs are dangerous enough. You need to be in good health to stop yourself from getting killed so that you can protect Lissa."

He knows me well, to be reminding me of my duty in the midst of all this mess. It's maybe the only thing that could really get through to me, and it warms me a little to know that he knows this.

"So here's what you're going to do." His voice is firm, but not harsh; once again he's taking on the role of my instructor. "You are going to make a small effort every day by finding one new thing that you like about yourself. I promise that I will help as much as I can, and I will make it my personal mission to remind you as much as I possibly can, but it has to come from _you_."

He quiets, simply looking at me with a fervent strength that filters into me through his silence. Suddenly, my heart swells so full of love for this incredible man that I feel it like a pain in my chest. Maybe I can't believe that I'm worthy of his love, but the fact that someone so amazing seems to think I'm worth the extra effort might just count for something.

Tears that I thought I'd already shed somehow return to my eyes, but for what it's worth, do not spill. They simply stay there, perched, catching and stretching the light in my vision. From where I'm standing, it almost looks like he has a halo.

"How can you possibly love me when I'm so broken?" My voice is soft with awe and sadness, which his smile reflects. He leans down so that our foreheads touch.

"Oh, Roza," he murmurs. "You forget; we're all a little broken. But maybe between the two of us, we have enough pieces."

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it-or if you didn't and want to tell my why-please leave a review to let me know what you think! Your input always means so much to me, especially in a fic like this, with an issue that's so close to my heart.**

 **I was talking to a friend the other day, and she's someone that I really admire and look up to. In the conversation, she casually mentioned that she has an eating disorder, like it was just a fact of life, and that honestly made me so sad. Here is this woman who is so strong beautiful, and she's unable to see what I see. Each and every one of you is just the way you're meant to be, and deserving of love, particularly from yourself. I know how hard it is sometimes to look past the flaws that you can see, though perhaps they're not actually there. Keep fighting the fight. It's important that you see how amazing you are.**

 **Thank you for taking this journey with me.**


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